trying to make sense out of injustice

Your Men Are Cascading, Oh Widows Of War

Your men are cascading,
Oh widows of war,
Cascading away from you and
Out of your arms and your lives

They are left alone drowning in the streets
With the blood of our sins on their hands
Your sons and brothers,
Are merely the dead without names
Soulless wanderers through our memories minefields

We write now not of our loves but our flaws
Our losses our pain
Our unfulfillable longing our fears
We write of the wars we will never win

We write for the days when
There’s nothing we can do
But watch our sons die in fields we’ve never seen
We write as the sadness overwhelms us with
A deadly grip on our convictions

We write of words that have no meaning
Of leaders with no sense of truth
We write of the best of men
and the worst of lies

We write of the cascade of lives
The constant avoidable mixing of our morality
into the cesspool of inhumanity
Your men are cascading,
Oh widows of war
We write because we can no longer
Suffer your sorrows in silence.